The LASER Caper
by El Kaye
Summary: The Kids from C.A.P.E.R. are baffled when holes mysteriously start appearing around Northeast Southweston, and to save the town and his friends one of them may end up making the ultimate sacrifice.
1. Act One

The secret word is: "Holes"

The daily travails of our fair city have long been sustaining fodder for one Kurt Klinsinger, self-proclaimed investigative reporter and all-around busy body. He's undeniably the one source everyone tunes their television tubes to when they want to know anything worth knowing in Northeast Southweston. And over the past few days he's been wowing the masses with his exclusive scoop on the disappearance of one of our most vital resources . . . the substance which Earth could not exist without . . . that matter which all reporters figuratively but very rarely literally have a chance to report about . . .

"Dirt," Kurt Klinsinger addressed his viewing audience seriously. "How many of us take dirt for granted? Do we truly appreciate the terra firma below our feet? Well, this reporter urges everyone to take dirt more seriously, especially now that it is being pilfered from beneath our very noses!"

"Is my nose dirty?" Doomsday asked worriedly, rubbing his nose. "I just washed it this morning."

Doc, Bugs, Doomsday and myself, P.T., were gathered around the small television set in the C.A.P.E.R. room watching the morning Klinsinger report.

"Oh, you may scoff!" Klinsinger continued.

Doc let out a scoffing noise just for the heck of it.

"But when the very ground upon which Northeast Southweston is built begins disappearing then I take umbrage!" Klinsinger shouted. "Umbrage, I say!"

"Kurt's in fine form today," Bugs noted.

"He's hoping to win an award with this series," I speculated. "'The Dirt on the Missing Dirt!'"

"Shhh!" Doomsday scolded. "I want to hear more about this Um Bridge. I've never heard of it before!"

"Several more occurrences of missing dirt have been reported in a number of vacant lots around town," Klinsinger continued, pounding his fist on his desk. "Now, there are those out there who may say 'Who cares?'"

"Who cares?" Doc asked.

"'Who's going to miss this dirt?'"

"Who_ is_ going to miss this dirt?" I inquired.

"'Howdoes this impact _my_ life?'"

"How _does_ this impact my life?" Bugs wondered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is not some harmless, victimless crime," Klinsinger insisted. "The dirt of this city belongs to all of us! We must not allow our precious vacant lots to be violated in this way! And this reporter will stay on this story until the dirty thieves behind the dirt thievery have been stopped!"

Bugs slapped the top of the television set to turn it off, exclaiming, "This sounds like a job for C.A.P.E.R.!"

"No, it doesn't," Doc contradicted.

"It doesn't?" Bugs asked.

"I would hope we have better things to do with our time than to track down missing dirt," Doc sighed.

"And Klinsinger's not exactly correct about the dirt belonging to all of us," I pointed out. "Most of the vacant lots he's referring to are privately owned."

"Still, a crime's a crime," Doomsday noted.

"Well, it can't be that serious," I said. "After all, Sgt. Vinton hasn't asked us to look into the case yet."

The door opened and Sgt. Vinton entered. "Boys, I want you to get to the bottom of this missing dirt thing," he announced.

"It just got serious," I corrected myself.

"You _can't_ be serious!" Doc protested. "You want us to find missing dirt?"

"Look, I know the whole thing seems silly, but Klinsinger has the whole town in an uproar with his reports and people are starting to call asking us what we're going to do about the missing dirt," Sgt. Vinton sighed.

"Did you tell them to check under their fingernails?" Bugs asked. We all looked at our fingernails.

"I'm counting on you, boys, to find out what's behind this mystery," Sgt. Vinton said.

"Now?" Bugs asked.

"Okay, now," I nodded.

"This sounds like a job for C.A.P.E.R.!" Bugs stated.

We jumped to our feet and recited, "The Civilian Authority for the Protection of Everybody, Regardless!"

"Tadaa!" sang Doc.

"Tadaa!" sang Doomsday.

"Tadaa!" sang Bugs.

"Tadaa!" I finished, stretching it out with a nifty country lick.

"Must you do that every time?"Sgt. Vinton moaned impatiently. _"I _know who you are!"

"Never you fear, Sgt. Vinton. We'll unearth the truth behind the fiends who dare to despoil our topsoil!" I promised as I walked out the door.

"Because grime doesn't pay!" Bugs added, exiting as well.

"And we'll hit the ground running," Doomsday promised as he followed us.

"My sediments exactly," Doc nodded, patting Sgt. Vinton on the shoulder before leaving the room.

* * *

Our trip across town in the Big Bologna was uneventful until we had almost reached our destination of a vacant lot we'd seen featured in one of Klinsinger's reports. Mr. Featherstone suddenly became very agitated and started thrashing around in his tank.

"What is it, Mr. Featherstone?" Bugs asked as he held up his arms in a futile attempt to keep from getting wet.

Mr. Featherstone began making short, sharp sounds as if he were in pain.

"Is he okay?" I asked with concern from the driver's seat.

"I don't know," Doomsday said, reaching over to pet the shark as Mr. Featherstone started to calm down. "There, there, Mr. Featherstone. It's okay. What's the matter, fella?"

Mr. Featherstone mumbled wearily, exhausted from his exertion.

"What is it?" Doc asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure," Doomsday said. "Mr. Featherstone said something just really started playing havoc with his radar senses. But he doesn't know what."

"Has that ever happened before?" I asked.

Mr. Featherstone muttered a few more noises and then settled down to rest.

"He says it's happened a few times recently, but he seems to be okay now," Doomsday reported.

"We'll have to be sure to keep an eye on him," Doc suggested.

A few moments later I parked the Big Bologna next to the vacant lot and we climbed out of the vehicle to look around.

"Over there," Doc pointed.

We walked over to inspect several large holes which had been neatly gouged from the lot. Each measured approximately seven feet in circumference and looked to be about five feet deep.

"Holy excavations!" I gasped.

"Well put, Boy Wonder . . . this certainly is unusual," Doc noted as he leaned down to inspect one of the holes. "They all appear to be exactly the same size."

"You know, this could be dangerous!" Bugs noted. "Someone could fall into one of these things!"

"Someone already has," Doomsday said, looking into another hole. "There's a girl in here!"

We walked over to Doomsday just as a girl's head popped up, looking over the top of the hole at us. She was slender with mousey brown hair and wore glasses. She carried a worn notebook which was already filled with an impressive amount of scribblings.

"I wonder if there's a girl in all the holes?" I said hopefully, peering down into a nearby hole. No such luck.

"Oh, hi Sill," Doc greeted her casually.

"Hi, Doc," she replied.

"Find anything interesting?" Doc asked.

"Yes, actually," Sill answered, and she started looking over her notes.

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Since you seem to be acquainted with girls who suddenly appear in holes, why don't you introduce us, Doc?"

"Oh, this is Sylvia," Doc explained. "But I just call her Sill. She's studying geology, you see."

We all stared at him, not understanding.

"It's a pun," Doc explained. "Geologist . . . Sill . . . "

We continued to stare.

"Sill . . . a tabular pluton intruding between layers of rock," Doc explained further.

We continued to stare.

"Um, Doc and I know each other from the library," Sill changed the subject, seeing we weren't going to catch on to Doc's play on words any time soon. "When I heard about the strange dirt disappearances I thought I would look into them myself."

"Well, you've certainly thrown yourself into your work," I noted.

"A likely story," Bugs said, crossing his arms. "You just happen to be down here investigating the holes yourself? Let's see your hands!"

Sill held up her hands for Bugs to see.

"Ah ha!" Bugs exclaimed. "Your hands are dirty! Therefore it's obvious that _you_ are the one who's been stealing the dirt for your geological studies!"

Sill started to laugh, clutching her notebook to her chest. "Oh, you're funny!" she smiled.

Bugs looked confused. Sill didn't realize that he'd actually been making an attempt at a serious deduction.

"Yep, that's our Bugs," I said, patting his shoulder to cover for him. "A laugh a minute."

"I'm sure you've made the same observations I have," Sill continued, looking through her notes again.

"Yeah," Doomsday nodded. "For one thing, the lot is full of holes."

"But surely you've realized how strange it is . . . " Sill began.

"That the holes are all the same size," Doc finished.

"Not only that, but they're all so neat," I noted. "Like someone took a giant cookie cutter and cut them out."

"Mmm, cookies," Doomsday hummed dreamily.

"Not really what you'd expect from dirt thieves," Doc agreed.

"And you wouldn't expect someone stealing dirt to not spill any as they haul it away," Sill added.

I looked around. Sill was right . . . there wasn't a single odd deposit of dirt anywhere to be seen on the lot.

"And that's not all," Sill said, motioning for Doc to lean over to look at the side of the hole she was standing in. "This earth is smooth and almost crystalized. As if it's been scorched."

Doc reached over to feel the strange, solid consistency of the dirt inside the hole. "What do you think caused it?"

"I've never seen anything like it before," Sill admitted.

"Could it have been meteors?" I asked.

"It would be unusual for them to all be the same size," Doc pointed out. "And the dirt would have simply been displaced, it wouldn't just disappear."

"Maybe they're backwards volcanoes," Bugs offered flippantly.

Sill looked at Bugs with confusion.

"You know? Like they start on the surface and go down," Bugs tried to explain. "It's a joke."

Sill continued to look confused, so Bugs let it go.

"I think it's clear that Klinsinger's assertions of someone stealing the dirt from these lots is as empty as the holes themselves," Doc deduced.

"But if someone isn't stealing the dirt, then what's causing all of these holes?" Doomsday asked.

"Giant moles!" Bugs suddenly said seriously.

Sill started to laugh again. "Now _that's_ funny!"

"I can't get a break," Bugs sighed.

"Well, whatever's causing these holes, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them," I predicted.

"Perhaps a trip to the library would prove useful," Doc suggested.

"Yes, we could see if there is any known precedent for this kind of thing," Sill agreed, and she started to look for a way to climb out of the hole.

"Oh, here," Bugs offered, and he reached down and easily lifted her out, setting her down gently.

"Thanks," she smiled. "You're surprisingly strong for your build."

"Yes, I may look like I'm made out of Legos but I'm actually built like a brick house," he bragged. When she didn't laugh, he added, "That was a joke, too."

"Oh," Sill smiled courteously, then walked away.

I noticed this time Bugs didn't seem as upset that Sill didn't laugh at his joke. He simply watched her with a slight smile as she followed Doc to the Big Bologna.

Soon we were on our way to the library. Doomsday climbed into the driver's seat and Doc sat beside him in the passenger seat. Bugs, Sill and I stepped into the back and I took a moment to check on Mr. Featherstone before buckling myself in.

"Mr. Featherstone seems to be okay now," I assured Doomsday as he pulled away from the lot.

"That's good," Doomsday sighed with relief.

"So you know Doc from the library?" Bugs asked Sill.

"Yes," Sill answered. "We sometimes study together."

"Isn't that somewhat distracting?" I asked.

"Why?" Sill asked.

"Hasn't Doc ever smiled at you?" Bugs asked.

"Well, he may have smiled when we managed to work out a particularly difficult postulation," Sill answered.

"And you didn't hear anything?" Bugs asked with surprise.

"Like what?" Sill asked.

"Like church bells ringing," Bugs offered.

Sill giggled. "You're joking again, right?"

"No, it's true," I confirmed. "Haven't you ever let Doc hold your hand?"

"Yeah, like this?" Bugs asked, taking her hand in his.

"Why would I do that?" Sill asked.

"Listen," Bugs urged, closing his eyes and holding her hand tightly. "Don't you hear anything?"

Sill humored him, listening carefully. "Come to think of it, I _do_ hear something."

"You do?" I asked with surprise.

"You do?" Bugs asked hopefully.

"Mm hmmm," Sill nodded. "It sounds like your van could use a new muffler."

Bugs sighed and released her hand. "How does Doc do it?" he wondered aloud.

"I wonder what's going on over at the Krelvin Building?" Doomsday said from the front.

"The tallest building in the world without elevators," I clarified.

"There's a large crowd of people standing around on the sidewalk and pointing upwards," Doomsday explained.

"There are a number of police cars around the building as well," Doc added.

"Sounds like we'd better investigate," I suggested.

Doomsday pulled the Big Bologna up to the curb outside the Krelvin Building and we climbed out. We spotted Sgt. Vinton almost immediately, directing some people as they exited the building.

"What's going on?" I asked Sgt. Vinton as we approached.

"See for yourself," Sgt. Vinton answered, pointing upwards.

We looked up and gave out a collective gasp. The north side of the Krelvin Building looked like a gigantic chunk of Swiss cheese. There were holes pockmarking the building's facade, exposing various offices and shops within.

"Holy perforations!" I exclaimed.

"Is everyone okay?" Doc asked.

"As far as we can tell, no one's been hurt," Sgt. Vinton reported. "But we're evacuating the building until we know what's going on, just to be on the safe side." He sighed, "And without elevators, you can imagine how long it's taking."

"What happened?" Bugs asked.

"We don't know!" Sgt. Vinton exclaimed with frustration. "Witnesses claim they saw a strange light and heard a strange sound and then the holes just . . . appeared."

"As the walls and windows just . . . disappeared," I speculated. "When did this happen?"

"About thirty minutes ago," Sgt. Vinton answered.

"Just about the time we were arriving at the vacant lot," I noted.

"Doc . . . do you notice . . . ?" Sill began.

"I do," Doc interrupted. "The holes all appear to be the same size as the ones we saw in the vacant lot."

"Someone's stealing concrete and glass as well as dirt?" Doomsday asked with confusion.

"Either that or the giant moles are moving up in the world," Bugs noted. Sill stifled a giggle.

"Sgt. Vinton, is it okay if we go up to inspect the holes more closely?" I asked.

"Well, I dunno," Sgt. Vinton hesitated. "We don't know what kind of structural damage we're dealing with here."

"But if we don't inspect the damage up close, we may never adequately decipher the cause of these strange occurrences," Doc pointed out.

"Well, I suppose it would be okay," Sgt. Vinton conceded. "But be careful!"

We entered the Krelvin Building and made our way up the stairs, which took longer than usual because we had to make our way past all the people still coming down.

We stopped on various floors and inspected the vacated offices on the north side of the building which had been directly affected by the bizarre phenomenon. It was undoubtedly one of the strangest things we had ever seen. Wherever a hole had penetrated the building it had also taken out everything five feet beyond, so we found ourselves observing half desks, gouged tables and bizarre remnants of furniture left with segments cut out that perfectly matched the circular voids.

Sill was busy taking measurements with a tape measure she carried in her pocket, noting down all the numbers she could. "This is the vacant lot all over again," she observed.

"Really?" Doomsday asked with confusion. "You're having deja vu?"

"She means that the holes are all seven feet in circumference and approximately five feet in depth," Doc explained.

"What do you suppose is causing it?" I asked Doc.

"Since there's obviously no debris, it's clear that the missing materials, as well as the dirt in the lots, have been completely disintegrated!" Doc stated dramatically.

"What in the world could do that?" Bugs asked.

"I don't know," Doc admitted. "But whatever it is, it's coming from somewhere north. Sill, did you take measurements of the holes in the vacant lot and the degree of their angles, by any chance?"

"Yes, I did," Sill assured him.

"Let's check the rest of the floors," I suggested, and we continued our long journey through the building.


	2. Act Two

As we climbed the stairs to the higher floors we encountered fewer people coming down.

"This is the most baffling mystery we've encountered yet," I pointed out as we started up yet another flight of steps. "It's positively crazy!"

"Insane," Doc agreed.

"Wacky," Bugs chimed in.

"Nutty," Doomsday offered.

Not wishing to be left out, Sill began to say, "Ba . . . "

"Don't say that word!" I gasped, interrupting her.

"What word?" Bugs asked.

"Huh?" Sill asked. "You mean ba . . . ?"

"_No!_ I mean yes!" I cried. I leaned over to her and whispered, "That's the one word you can never say in front of Bugs because it upsets him very much."

"What word?" Bugs asked again.

"It upsets him?" Sill asked with confusion.

"Very much," I confirmed.

"Why? What does he do when you say . . . that word?" Sill asked with curiosity.

"_What _word?" Bugs demanded to know.

"You don't want to know," Doomsday warned her.

"Oh, but I do!" Sill assured them. "Now you have me all curious!"

"Please, it's best you don't know," I insisted. "Just please don't say that word in front of Bugs!"

"_What word?"_ Bugs cried, losing all patience.

"Oh come on," Sill begged. "Can't I say it just a little bit? I'm dying to know what happens now!"

"Trust me, Sill," Doc interrupted seriously. "You really don't want to know."

Sill sighed, but decided that if even Doc insisted she not say the word it was probably best to heed his advice.

"Come on," I suggested, and we continued up the stairs.

"What were you guys talking about?" Bugs whined with frustration.

"Don't worry about it, Bugs," I said. "Come on. We have more floors to inspect."

At last we reached the top floors which were occupied mostly by the Krelvin offices. We stepped into the company's main office and were surprised to see Harvey Krelvin standing beside a large desk and talking on the phone.

"I don't know, Daddy," the smartly-dressed teenaged boy was saying anxiously into the receiver, "The police have evacuated the building but they don't know what's going on yet. I know! I know, okay. No, I'll keep you up to date with what's happening. Yes. Yes, I'll remember to call that contractor. Okay. Bye, Daddy."

After hanging up the phone Harvey was startled when he realized we had entered the office. "Oh geez!" he gasped. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Hey, Harvey," I greeted him politely. "We're investigating the case."

"Still working with the police, huh?" Harvey smirked.

"Still working for your dad, huh?" Bugs countered, walking past Harvey.

Harvey and Bugs eyed each other with disdain. There had always been a cool dislike between them. Bugs didn't think much of the haughty airs Harvey put on and Harvey increased those airs around Bugs, treating him as if he were too crass and lowly to associate with. The truth is Harvey talked down to all of us, as well as pretty much everyone else, and he resented the fact that Bugs wouldn't let him get away with it.

"Melvin," Bugs greeted Harvey coldly. Even since Bugs had found out Melvin was Harvey's middle name he always used it, knowing it irritated Harvey endlessly.

"Insect," Harvey replied sharply.

"Your dad's office was hit as well?" Doc asked as he and Sill walked over to the windows. "But look at this!"

We immediately realized something was different. In this case, there was only a partial circle cut out of the wall beside and below the window, but the window was completely intact. The desk in front of the window had disintegrated at the precise spot the window stopped and the wall began.

"I'm lucky to still be alive!" Harvey insisted. "I was standing right by the window when it happened! The desk disappeared right beside me!"

"Can you tell us what happened?" I asked.

"There was this sudden flash of light and a really strange sound, and then this," Harvey answered.

Doc poked his head out through the opening in the wall to look at the windows from the outside. "You have mirrored windows on these floors?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy had them installed in all of our offices," Harvey boasted. "They're expensive but well worth it."

Doc motioned for Sill to look out through the hole, directing her attention to a building some distance below. She could see there was a partial hole in the top of its roof.

"The mirrored windows reflected whatever it was and it bounced onto that building," Sill speculated.

"My conclusion precisely," Doc agreed.

Sill and Doc immediately began taking measurements with Sill writing down the numbers.

"Gosh, Harvey," Doomsday said. "I've never seen open-toed loafers for men before. Where did you get them?"

We looked down at Harvey's feet and could see the tips of his shoes were missing.

"My shoes!" Harvey cried, not having noticed this before. "And they were expensive!"

I dropped to the floor to closely inspect Harvey's feet, as did Bugs. "Look at this," I said, "The ends of his shoes and even his socks have been disintegrated!"

Bugs looked up at Harvey and smirked, "You wear purple socks, Melvin?"

"Just stay down there and grovel where you belong, Worm," Harvey sneered.

"Holy pedicure!" I gasped. "Doc! It took out part of his toenail as well!"

"What?" Harvey cried, lifting his foot worriedly.

"That means that whatever this is can disintegrate anything!" Doc noted. "Even living matter."

"Which means it's only a matter of time before someone gets hurt . . . or worse!" I said worriedly, getting to my feet. "We have to find out what's causing this, and fast!"

"I could have lost a toe!" Harvey cried in a high-pitched whine.

"Are these Donny Osmond socks?" Bugs suddenly gasped.

Harvey's eyes flashed angrily as his cheeks flushed. "Look, you guys get outta here!" he yelled, "I have to call the contractor!"

"Which contractor?" I asked.

"Daddy says he received an advertisement from a contractor a few days ago and told me to give him a call to get an estimate for making the repairs to the building," Harvey explained as he started looking through the mail on his father's desk.

"Really?" I asked. "Could we see this advertisement?"

"Of course not!" Harvey snapped. "You guys have no right to look through my father's mail! You don't have any right to be here at all! You're not even real policemen! Where's your search warrant?"

"Okay, okay!" I sighed. "We just thought you might be able to help us, is all!"

"You guys are beyond help," Harvey sneered. "Now clear out!"

We started for the door when Kurt Klinsinger entered the office followed by his cameraman. He pushed past us and ran to Harvey, speaking into a microphone as the cameraman got into position.

"Kurt Klinsinger, reporting live from the Krelvin offices located at the top of the Krelvin Building! We're here with Harvey Krelvin, noted heir of the Krelvin Empire, who was on scene during the incident! What can you tell us about this horrifying event?" Kurt stuck the microphone into Harvey's face.

"It was horrible!" Harvey cried in an over-dramatic fashion. "Simply terrifying! But I kept my cool, even though I nearly lost both of my feet in the incident!" He lifted one of his feet to show off his disintegrated shoe. "As you can see, it was a close call!"

Doc suddenly walked over to them and grabbed the microphone from Harvey's hand, speaking into the camera which turned to focus on him. "Citizens of Northeast Southweston . . . it is imperative that you remain calm during this crisis. Stay well away from the north-facing side of any building or structure! Try to take shelter in rooms and buildings with southern exposure . . !"

"Hey!" Harvey complained, grabbing the microphone away from Doc. "This is_ my_ interview!"

Bugs had sneaked over behind them and shouted out, "Harvey Krelvin wears Donny Osmond socks!"

Harvey lunged at Bugs but we all quickly exited the office.

We ran down the many flights of stairs as quickly as possible and hurried to the Big Bologna, piling inside. Doomsday immediately noticed there was a great deal of water on the floor and the water level in Mr. Featherstone's tank was notably lower. The poor shark looked completely exhausted.

"Oh, poor Mr. Featherstone!" Doomsday comforted the shark. "Did it happen again?"

Mr. Featherstone tiredly mumbled affirmation.

"The last time Mr. Featherstone went crazy was at the same time the holes were appearing in the Krelvin Building," I pointed out.

"Then chances are more holes have appeared somewhere around town while we were conducting our investigation here," Doc concluded.

"But what's causing it?" Doomsday asked. "And why is it upsetting Mr. Featherstone so badly?"

"From what we know, it has to be some kind of directional disruption of matter," Doc explained. "A ray or beam of some kind. Whatever it is, it must interfere with Mr. Featherstone's radar senses, causes him distress. We don't know exactly what this thing is or how it works . . . "

"Or who's behind it," I added.

" . . . but with the information we've compiled I think Sill and I can use trigonometry to figure out exactly which direction the disruption is coming from," Doc finished.

"That's perfect!" I said. "If we can at least pinpoint the source, maybe we can stop it!"

"We'll get to work on it right away," Doc said, and he and Sill took seats by the computer in the back. "I don't know if a visit to the library would be of much assistance now."

"If there still _is_ a library," Bugs pointed out.

"We'll head over there anyway," I suggested, and I climbed into the driver's seat.

As I drove us toward the library, Doc and Sill worked on their mathematical deductions while Doomsday, Bugs and I observed the damage around town. It seemed as if many of the notable buildings in the city now sported at least one or two holes. As we rounded a corner we saw the Dingleman Mall and realized the devastation had struck there as well.

"The Dingleman Mall is full of holes," I reported to Doc.

"Let's stop and see if we can get some more measurements," Sill suggested. "The more numbers we have the more precise our calculations will be."

"And maybe they could use our help," Bugs suggested. "It looks like the place is in chaos."

We pulled up in the parking lot and hurried to the north side of the mall. Crowds of people were standing around in a daze, unable to fathom what was happening. It seemed as if all the stores on the north side had been hit, leaving gaping holes where window displays used to be. Doc and Sill immediately began to take measurements wherever they could.

"Is anyone hurt?" I kept asking anyone who would listen. Thankfully everyone replied in the negative.

"Oh no," Doomsday gasped sadly.

Bugs and I turned and saw what Doomsday had spotted. The merry-go-round located in the northern courtyard was tilted awkwardly to one side . . . one quarter of the ride was simply gone. I was immediately terrified . . . if any children had been riding on it when the holes appeared . . .

We hurried to the merry-go-round operator, who was standing beside his controls and looking pale.

"Was anyone on the ride?" I asked him urgently.

"Oh, no, thank goodness," the man sighed. "In fact the riders had just exited and the next group were about to board when it happened."

I looked around. Devastated children were crying and panic-strickened parents were trying to comfort them.

"Silver's gone," Doomsday sighed sadly, observing the missing carousel horses. "And Black Beauty. And Thunder . . . "

I knew we all felt the same way. All of us had ridden that merry-go-round since we were little kids. It was as if someone had ripped out a piece of our childhoods.

A tiny girl tugged at Doomsday's sleeve and he knelt down so she could speak to him. "What happened to the horses? And my teddy?" she asked tearfully, holding up a teddy bear whose lower half was completely gone.

"Oh, poor Teddy," Doomsday sighed, and he hugged the girl tightly, trying to assure her, "It's gonna be okay. Don't cry."

"This is going too far!" Bugs snarled angrily. "Whoever's behind this has got to be stopped!"

I spotted Mr. Dingleman walking nearby and hurried to him. "Mr. Dingleman!" I called. "When did this all happen?"

"About forty minutes ago," Mr. Dingleman sighed. "I don't know what to do. So much devastation. Thank goodness no one was hurt."

"We're doing everything we can to get to the bottom of this mystery," I promised him.

"I sure hope you can," Mr. Dingleman sighed. "We can't handle any more damage. It's already going to be several weeks before the contractor can even give me an estimate."

"Which contractor is this?" I asked.

"The Pro Construction Company," Mr. Dingleman answered, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to me. "I spoke to the owner, Mr. Profeta, just a few minutes ago. He's understandably swamped with calls. Of course he says he has to give top priority to repairing the Roger P. Folkelman, Jr. Memorial Bridge and the Finster Tunnel for the city first."

"The bridge and tunnel were both damaged as well?" I asked in shock.

"Apparently so," Mr. Dingleman sighed sadly.

"When did you receive this flyer?" I asked.

"It arrived in the mail just a few days ago," Mr. Dingleman explained.

"Do you mind if I keep this?" I asked.

"Not at all," Mr. Dingleman said. "Although you'll probably just end up on a huge wait list, like me."

"Thanks," I said, and I returned to Bugs and Doomsday.

"When Doc and Sill are finished taking their measurements, I think we should pay a visit to this Pro Construction Company and have a talk with Mr. Profeta," I said.

"Do you think he may know what's happening?" Bugs asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But we have to check every possibility before the whole city becomes a hole city!"

* * *

I pulled the Big Bologna over to the curb in front of the Pro Construction offices. Mr. Featherstone hadn't thrown any more fits, so we hoped that meant no more holes had appeared around town.

"Doc, you and Sill continue to work on pinpointing the origin of whatever's causing the holes," I suggested. "The rest of us will go talk to Mr. Profeta. Let us know via C.A.P.E.R. band if you figure it out before we get back."

"Absolutely, P.T.," Doc nodded.

Bugs, Doomsday and I stepped out of the Big Bologna and walked over to the Pro Construction building (which I noted immediately was completely intact and free of holes!)

As we entered the front office a little bell on the door rang to announce our arrival. A middle-aged man was sitting at a desk behind the front counter, talking on the phone. He held a finger up to us and said, "I'll be with you in a moment, boys."

We waited as the man continued his phone call, listening in on his end of the conversation.

"Yes, I understand . . . but I'm sure you can appreciate the enormity of the situation. You're not the only one in town to be affected by this strange series of events. But surely you realize the city projects must come first. What? How much? Well, if it's that important to you . . . " The man eyed us and then lowered his voice. "In that case, I think we can work you in sooner, Mr. Krelvin. Yes. No, my pleasure. I'll be over first thing in the morning to give you an estimate. Yes, thank you. Goodbye."

The man stood up and met us at the counter. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Are you Mr. Profeta?" I asked.

"Yes," Mr. Profeta nodded. His phone began to ring again and he sighed. "My phone's been ringing off the hook all day. Well, you can imagine with what's going on. Excuse me." He stepped back to his desk and picked up the receiver. "Yes? Oh, good afternoon, Mayor. Yes, I am well aware of the situation you're facing. I promise you, our construction equipment will be on site as soon as possible. As long as the city can pay the retainer I asked for in advance so we can secure enough men and materials . . . yes . . . yes, that's right. You can bring a cashier's check to my office any time. Yes. No . . . no, it's my pleasure, Mayor. Okay. Goodbye."

"This tragedy certainly hasn't hurt your business any," I noted sharply.

Mr. Profeta shrugged. "It's just the way the world works sometimes," he sighed. "One man's loss is another man's gain. Now what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to ask you about these flyers," I began, holding out the mailer which Mr. Dingleman had given to me.

"Oh yes, our direct advertising," Mr. Profeta nodded. "What about it?"

"You mailed these out to the city offices and prominent building owners a few days ago, is that right?" I asked.

"Yes, that's right," Mr. Profeta confirmed, then he gave a slight laugh. "Rather fortuitous timing, I guess?"

"Yes, rather fortuitous," I agreed suspiciously.

Mr. Profeta noted our expressions and shrugged his shoulders. "Now boys, you can't possibly think that because I mailed these flyers out a few days ago and just happen to be getting a lot of work now because of this catastrophe I could possibly have anything to do with it?"

"It is a rather strange coincidence, you must admit," I noted.

"A coincidence, certainly," Mr. Profeta agreed. "But hardly enough evidence with which to convict a man. I can assure you I am just as clueless about what's happening to Northeast Southweston as you are. I simply mailed these flyers because I recently expanded my business, and I've noticed that many of the buildings around town were falling into disrepair. I want to help build up the community, not destroy it."

I'll admit I didn't have any argument for this statement. And even if I'd come up with one I wouldn't have had time to reply, as Doc's voice came over my C.A.P.E.R. band radio.

"Doc calling, P.T. Come in, P.T."

I picked up the radio to answer. "P.T. here, Doc."

"Sill and I have finished our calculations," Doc reported. "We think the source of the destruction must be located on Perkle's Peak."

"Copy that, Doc," I said. "We're coming now." I looked at Mr. Profeta and told him, "Well, hopefully we'll be able to make sure you don't get any more of these 'fortuitous' jobs."

"If you can stop whatever's happening, then I wish you all the luck in the world," Mr. Profeta said sincerely.

"Thank you," I said, and Bugs, Doomsday and I walked out the door.

Mr. Profeta watched us climb into the Big Bologna and mumbled under his breath, "Because you're going to need it."

He stepped into his back office, which was an elaborate setup of controls, video monitors and radio equipment. "I should have known those C.A.P.E.R. Kids would be onto me sooner or later," he sighed, sitting in front of the large console and placing a pair of headphones over his ears. He switched on the monitors which showed several angles of what appeared to be a huge satellite dish on top of Perkle's Peak, then smiled. "Well, they're going to wish it was later when they see what I have in store for them!"


	3. Act Three

Doomsday was at the wheel of the Big Bologna and I was sitting in the front passenger seat as we headed for Perkle's Peak. Doc, Bugs and Sill were seated in the back.

"If our calculations are correct . . . " Doc began.

"And from the information we gathered they should be," Sill asserted.

" . . . then we should find what we're looking for at the top of Perkle's Peak," Doc finished.

"And you figured all this out just by using math?" Bugs asked in awe.

"Trigonometry," Sill corrected.

"Sylvia, you are so smart," Bugs sighed in awe. "I know Doc calls you Sill, but would you mind if I call you Via?"

"Why?" Sill asked.

"Because you've found the way to my heart," Bugs said earnestly.

Doc nodded, impressed, but Sill looked somewhat confused.

"When all this is over, would you like to go out with me?" Bugs asked hopefully.

Sill now realized Bugs was serious, and she blushed. "Oh well, Bugs . . . I'm flattered. But I'm afraid I don't really have a lot of time to date, what with all of my studies . . . " She could see the disappointment on his face and quickly added. "Don't get me wrong! You're one of the most interesting boys I've ever met! It's just that . . . "

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," Bugs assured her, and he leaned back in his chair to sulk.

Sill looked at Doc, who only shrugged at her.

We were now driving up Perkle's Peak and I was searching the mountaintop for any sign of anything strange. As we rounded a turn on the dirt road leading toward the summit I caught a flash of sunlight reflecting from something above, but it only lasted a second.

"There's something up there, all right," I announced.

Suddenly Mr. Featherstone started thrashing in his tank again. Doomsday turned his head around to look into the back. "Oh no, it's happening again!" he cried.

All at once a flash of light filled the windshield and there was a loud, cacophonous sound which exploded in the air. It sounded like the sharp strumming of a hundred out-of-tune guitars all at once. As soon as the light vanished I could see a huge hole had appeared in the road in front of us.

"Look out!" I cried, lunging for the steering wheel as Doomsday turned back around and saw the hole. Doomsday slammed on the brakes and we both turned the wheel as the Big Bologna spun out on the dirt road. We somehow managed to maintain control and keep the vehicle upright as it skidded to a stop with the back right wheel slipping into the hole.

For an anxious moment the Big Bologna started to tip backwards as if it might slip down into the hole. But Doc, Sill and Bugs quickly jumped up from their seats and ran to the front with us, righting the teetering vehicle.

"We're sitting ducks here," I pointed out. "Doomsday, quick, drive back down around the bend."

Doomsday started the Big Bologna and carefully pulled forward until the right wheel was out of the hole, then drove us back down the road and around the bend of the hill where the vehicle would be out of range from the menace above.

"Well, it appears whoever's behind this knows we're here," Doc observed.

"We have to sneak up there and put that thing out of commission," I urged. "We'll split up. Doc, Bugs and Sill, you go around to the east. Doomsday and I will sneak around to the west. Try to stay out of its direct line of fire as much as possible. Once we're close, anyone who can think of any way to stop it, do it. Okay?"

"Right," everyone agreed, and we split up.

Our separate groups began the anxious journey on foot up the mountain. Doomsday and I stayed low, sneaking around past the Big Bologna and making our way up the side of the mountain that followed the road.

Looking over the ridge, I could see the structure on top of the peak. It was a large metal tower with what looked like a huge satellite dish on top. The dish was occasionally turning, as if seeking out a target.

Doc, Bugs and Sill were carefully making their way towards the top from the other side. At one point they had to cross between an open area that would leave them in direct view of the tower. "We have no choice," Doc realized. "Come on, hurry."

As they raced across the area between two rocky outcroppings, the dish turned in their direction and fired. They were momentarily blinded by the light and the horrific sound, but they continued running. A hole appeared in the ground only inches from where Doc had just passed, but right in front of Sill and Bugs. Without hesitation, Bugs picked up Sill and leapt over the hole with her in his arms, catching up with Doc behind the safety of the rocks.

"Are you okay?" Bugs asked Sill worriedly.

"How . . . how did you do that?" Sill stammered in shock.

"No time to explain," Doc insisted. "We're almost there! If we can get below the tower, it won't be able to fire at us!"

As the machine was firing at the others, Doomsday and I were able to get much closer. We peered out from behind some rocks and looked up at the huge structure.

"I hope the others are okay," I sighed worriedly.

"How are we going to stop it?" Doomsday asked.

"I don't know," I admitted, watching as the gigantic dish began to turn back in our direction. It was then I saw Doc, Bugs and Sill creeping out from behind some rocks and approaching the base of the seventy foot tower.

"I sure hope Doc and Sill can figure out a way to shut it down," I sighed.

"And quickly," Doomsday added, "Because it's pointed right at us!"

I looked up and realized Doomsday was right. I also realized the rocks we were hiding behind were not that deep.

"Get back!" I shouted, and we both lunged back away from the rocks as the light blinded us and the raucous sound deafened us.

"It's shooting at P.T. and Doomsday!" Doc realized. "We have to stop it!"

When the light dimmed, I looked up to see the rocks sheltering us had been completely disintegrated, and Doomsday and I were now openly in the machine's line of fire. All it had to do was fire again and we were goners!

"Enough is enough!" Bugs cried, and he looked at his hands, summoning his super strength. Doc pulled Sill aside as Bugs lunged at the tower, pushing with all his might. The tower lurched and leaned and finally toppled over with a loud crash. The domed, mirrored dish cracked on impact and rolled away from the tower, now harmless.

Doomsday and I joined the others beside the fallen tower and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good thinking, Bugs," I said.

"Yeah, but I hope you won't get seven years bad luck now," Doomsday noted worriedly.

"Well, at least it's over," Doc sighed.

"So, you think it's over and you've won, huh?" a man's voice suddenly echoed around us.

We looked around, startled, but no one was in sight.

"Who is that?" Sill asked.

"I don't know where he is, but I recognize that voice," I said. I then called, "It's no use, Mr. Profeta! You may as well give yourself up! Your little game has ended!"

"My little game may be ended, but my big game is just beginning!" Mr. Profeta's voice laughed.

Doc tapped my shoulder and motioned to several cameras positioned around the area on posts which also included microphones and loudspeakers. "He's got this place wired remotely," Doc explained. "He could be anywhere, even back in his office."

"That's how he was able to see us coming and fire at us," I realized.

"We've put your machine out of business!" Bugs called out. "You're finished!"

"On the contrary," Mr. Profeta's voice said. "I was planning on retiring that model of my laser soon anyway."

"Laser?" Doc asked with surprise.

"Yes, laser," Mr. Profeta confirmed.

"That's not a laser!" Doc argued.

"Yes, it is!" Mr. Profeta contradicted. "I invented it myself!"

"You didn't invent the laser!" Sill joined the argument.

"And that's not a laser, anyway!" Doc agreed.

"It is so!" Mr. Profeta insisted. "It's my Light and Sound Evaporation Ray! I invented it!"

"You can't use that acronym," Doc countered. "It's already been used!"

"L.A.S.E.R. stands for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation!" Sill explained. "Everyone knows that!"

"I didn't know that," Doomsday admitted.

"Nope, sorry, but I'm using that acronym for _my_ machine and no one can stop me!" Mr. Profeta snarled. "You kids think you're so smart! You have no idea what you're up against!"

"It sounds like we're up against a real nutcase," Doc sighed.

"Okay, so you're using your 'laser' to damage the structures in Northeast Southweston to generate business," I summarized.

"And you practiced on vacant lots around town, thinking no one would find that too suspicious," Doc added.

"But you've knowingly endangered the lives of the citizens of our fair city!" I pointed out. "Your machine could have easily killed innocent bystanders! Not to mention all the chaos and panic you've caused!"

"You haven't seen anything yet, boys," Mr. Profeta promised. "If I may direct your attention to the large hill across the ravine directly to your north?"

We turned to look in the direction he indicated where we indeed saw a large hill across the ravine from us.

"I don't remember that hill being there before," I noted.

Before the others could respond, the hill started moving! Two large doors slid open and to our amazement and horror something began emerging, rising up from what was obviously a man-made enclosure which had been designed to look like a hill.

We stared in disbelief as the gigantic dish rose from the faux hill. It was at least ten times larger than the laser dish and tower we had already destroyed and when it finally reached its full height it stood looming ominously above us.

"You're insane!" I cried. "You can't possibly plan to use that on Northeast Southweston!"

"But I do," Mr. Profeta's voice assured us. "As soon as I'm done repairing all the damage and making my fortune, the whole sequence of events will begin again. Only this time there'll be even more damage and even more money!"

"A ray that size could disintegrate the entire Krelvin building in one shot!" Doc noted in horror.

"As well as the top of Perkle's Peak," Mr. Profeta added as the gigantic dish began to turn to take aim at us. "Sorry, boys, but at least know you won't die in vain. You're giving me the perfect excuse to test my new ultimate mega-laser."

"It's _not_ a laser!" Doc and Sill shouted angrily.

"Laser or not, we're in big trouble!" I pointed out. "That thing is big enough to wipe out this entire mountaintop!"

"What are we going to do?" Doomsday cried.

"Well, at this point I think there is only one remotely viable solution left open to us," Doc noted.

"And that is?" I asked.

"_Run!" _Doc shouted.

We all turned and ran back down the slope, trying to get out of the ray's direct line of fire.

"We can't possibly outrun it!" I shouted as we scurried toward the lee side of the peak. "We're going to end up like the tips of Harvey Krelvin's loafers!"

Bugs suddenly stopped running. "Krelvin!" he gasped. He looked back up at the fallen tower and then down to us, making up his mind in an instant.

I stopped and turned when I realized Bugs was running back up the slope.

"Bugs!" I called out as the others took shelter behind an incline.

"Get down!" Bugs shouted back as he continued up the hill.

I was close to running after Bugs when Doc grabbed me and pulled me down behind the incline. Together we peered up over the edge to see Bugs using his super strength to lift the large cracked domed dish, bracing himself as he held it up between us and the much larger ray machine.

The next thing I knew we were surrounded by a painfully blinding light, much harsher than the one we'd witnessed before. The air was wrenched with an even more intense and horrifying sound that made me duck down and cover my head with my arms. We all cowered together behind the incline, breathing quickly and waiting for the end to come.

But the end didn't come. Slowly I lifted my head when I realized everything had grown quiet. I looked around to see the others laying beside me, slowly lifting their heads in the same state of confusion.

"Is it over?" Doomsday asked nervously.

I got to my feet and observed the unusual sight. On either side of us the earth dropped away suddenly. Both sides of the peak had been disintegrated. All of the posts which had held Mr. Profeta's video and sound equipment were gone. Even the lower half of the huge tower which Bugs had knocked over was gone. Only one area of the peak remained, and that was the portion stretching back from where Bugs had taken up his position with the dish. Only now I couldn't see any sign of either one. I immediately started running up the hill.

"What happened?" Sill asked in a daze.

"Bugs used the mirror on the dish to reflect the ray away from us," Doc explained. They looked up at the gigantic ray on the opposite hill and saw that a good portion of it was now gone . . . only the lower portion of its huge dish remained.

"He saved us," Sill realized. "And he also destroyed the larger ray!"

"But where is he?" Doomsday asked.

I scrambled to the top of the peak, calling out, "Bugs! Bugs!" When I reached the spot where the dish had been, my heart immediately dropped into my stomach. "Oh no," I gasped.

The mountaintop was strewn with both large and small pieces of the mirrored dish, which had apparently shattered under the stress of the intense ray. Laying motionless amongst the pieces was Bugs; his hat and glasses laying in the dirt nearby.

The others reached the scene as I dropped down next to Bugs and desperately tried to solicit some kind of response from him. "Bugs! Bugs, please!" I cried tearfully. "Come on, wake up!"

Sill gasped at the sight as Doc and Doomsday quickly joined me. Doomsday and I waited anxiously as Doc quickly looked Bugs over. Our blood ran cold as Doc looked at us and slowly shook his head, a look of complete helplessness in his eyes.

"No, Doc," I cried. "He can't . . . !"

"He saved our lives!" Doomsday sobbed.

We sat in stunned disbelief, trying to comprehend what was happening. Sill walked over to Doc and knelt beside him, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"What are we going to do without Bugs?" I asked quietly, unsuccessfully trying to fight back tears.

"He wasn't smart," Doc sighed.

"Or sweet," I added.

"But he was our Bugs," Doomsday sobbed. "And he was always there for us."

"I should have said yes when he asked me to go out," Sill cried. "I wanted to. It's just I'd never really dated before. I didn't know what to say. And now . . . "

We all nodded with understanding.

Sill breathed unsteadily and then sighed sadly, "I guess I'll never know what happens when he hears the word 'bananas.'"

There was an anxious moment as we all waited for the usual reaction. When there was none, it only seemed to drive the reality further into our aching hearts.

Then suddenly I thought I saw Bugs twitch. A moment later it happened again. "Look!" I said hopefully.

We watched as Bugs' head moved slightly, and he murmured ever so quietly, "Ba . . . na . . . " After a moment the movements became more pronounced and his body also twitched. " . . . na . . . na . . . "

Bugs suddenly sat up, jerking his head and neck slightly as he continued to utter, " . . . ba . . . ba . . . na . . . na . . . " Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at us wearily, as if exhausted. "Wha . . . what's happening?" he asked quietly.

"Not much," Doc, Doomsday and I smiled through tears of relief.

"Oh Bugs!" Sill said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Bugs you were so strong and so brave! Yes, I'll go out with you!"

"You will?" Bugs asked with surprise. "Right now?"

"Well, I think you'd better rest first," Doc suggested.

"I'm okay," Bugs assured us as he tried to get up, but it was clear he was still pretty unsteady.

"Just relax," I urged, handing Bugs his hat and glasses. "Mr. Profeta's machines are no longer a threat, thanks to you. But we still have to catch the man himself."

"How are we going to do that?" Doomsday asked.

"I'm going to contact Sgt. Vinton," I said, grabbing my C.A.P.E.R. band radio. "I think he'd be interested to hear about Mr. Profeta and his schemes."

* * *

Mr. Profeta smiled to himself as he locked up his office. He patted his breast pocket to assure himself that the envelope containing the cashier's check, which the Mayor had dropped off moments before, was indeed there. Satisfied, he began his walk to the bank.

As he walked, a small flash of concern crossed his mind. He wondered why the instrumentation on his larger ray had stopped responding after he'd fired the machine. Had something gone wrong? He knew the ray had worked . . . he expected to lose all visual and audio input from Perkle's Peak when the ray obliterated the mountaintop, which had indeed happened.

No, everything was fine, he assured himself. _"I got rid of those pesky Kids for certain," _he smiled to himself. The larger ray probably just needed some fine tuning. The smaller ray had been the same. He could drive up to the peak later and make sure the larger ray was hidden from view. Then he could easily make any necessary repairs. It would take months if not years to repair the damage he had already caused around town. Yes, the one thing he had plenty of now besides money . . . was time.

He entered his branch of the Northeast Southweston Bank and waited in line for the next available teller. Once called, he pulled the envelope containing the cashier's check from his pocket and handed it to the good-looking young man who greeted him.

"I would like to have this cashed," Mr. Profeta explained.

"Certainly, sir," the young man replied. "And how would you like your money? In tens? Twenties?"

"Tens and twenties," the next teller over suddenly said. "How about getting that in years, instead?"

Mr. Profeta looked over and realized I was the teller who had spoken. He looked at his teller and realized with surprise that it was Doc.

"You!" he gasped. "But how . . . ?" He leered angrily at us and growled, "But I disintegrated you brats!"

"Your plan apparently had a few holes in it," I countered. "And I think Sgt. Vinton has a couple of holes for you to slip your wrists into as well!"

Mr. Profeta turned to see Sgt. Vinton standing behind him holding up a pair of handcuffs. Behind the sergeant stood numerous officers, making any escape attempt impossible. Mr. Profeta looked daggers at Doc and I as the cuffs were placed on him and he was read his rights.

"I can't thank you enough, boys," Sgt. Vinton said as we exited the bank. "Not only can we charge him with racketeering, destruction of property and reckless endangerment but with his confession in there we should be able to nail him for attempted homicide. He should be going away for a long time."

"Too bad you can't slap him with a charge of 'reckless misuse of scientific terms,' as well," Doc sighed.

"This city owes you a great deal," Sgt. Vinton smiled.

"We can't take all the credit," I insisted. "Which reminds me, Doc and I have to get back over to the emergency room and see how Bugs is doing. Doomsday and Sill will be waiting for us."

"I sure hope everything will be all right," Sgt. Vinton said sympathetically. "Tell him to take it easy. That's an order!"

We climbed into the Big Bologna and headed over to Northeast Southweston General Hospital. We found Doomsday and Sill sitting in the waiting room, watching a Klinsinger report on the television.

" . . . and thus Mr. Profeta's 'holey' reign of terror comes to an end," Klinsinger was summarizing. "Next, we'll be investigating the burning question which has now swept our city . . . does Harvey Krelvin indeed wear Donny Osmond socks? Stay tuned!"

"Any word yet?" Doc asked.

"The doctor came out and talked to us a while ago," Doomsday reported. "He said Bugs will be fine, but that he should definitely rest for a few days. They'll be releasing him any time now."

"Thank goodness," I sighed with relief.

"Did you get everything?" Sill asked us.

"It's all ready to go," I assured her.

"Thanks," she smiled, and she walked out to the parking lot.

Fifteen minutes later Bugs walked out with the doctor. We all jumped up and greeted Bugs happily.

"He'll be fine," the doctor assured us. "Just keep this little dynamo from performing any more heroics for a few days, okay?"

"We'll make sure he takes it easy, doctor," I assured the man.

"Boy, I'm sure glad you're okay, Bugs," Doomsday said as we headed for the parking lot.

"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare," Doc agreed.

"You sure did," I agreed, patting Bugs' shoulder. "But . . . thanks for saving our lives."

"Aw, that's okay, guys," Bugs assured us. He looked around and asked, "Hey, where's Sill?"

"Well, I'm not sure where she is," I said. The others shook their heads, playing along.

"Oh," Bugs sighed with disappointment.

"Anything wrong?" Doc asked.

"I just thought . . . never mind," Bugs said.

We walked to the Big Bologna and I opened the door for Bugs to enter. He stepped up into the vehicle and was surprised to see Sill sitting at a small table covered with a checkered tablecloth which had been set up in the back. The round windows had been covered, and a candle centerpiece on the table created a welcoming glow. Two plates held pieces of pizza and Sill was opening a large bottle of cola.

Bugs stood with his mouth open, then looked back at me. "What's all this?" he asked.

I leaned in the door and smiled, answering with a wink, "I think this is your first date." I closed the door, giving them their privacy.

Bugs walked over to the table and sat down as Sill poured a glass of cola for him, then for herself. Mr. Featherstone watched for a moment, then mumbled something sentimental before slipping under the water.

They picked up their glasses and Sill smiled, saying, "Here's to getting to know you better, Bugs."

Bugs smiled as they clinked glasses and then took a drink. "Mmm . . . " Bugs hummed. "1976. A very good year."

Sill laughed, pointing at Bugs and remarking, "Now _that_ was a joke! Right?"

"Right," Bugs nodded happily.

THE END


End file.
